Extra clever, earth-bound spirit.

And he has hands, and he has feet. He'll never die, he is a freak.

Quackity had found Slimecicle in a wall.

He was doing god knows what and Slimecicle had grown to be slime disguised as a human. And Quackity— well, at first Quackity tried to kill him. But he soon realized Slimecicle was a good, a great spy. An accidental spy. He had information about so many people. Like Dream, and Wilbur's revival.

Soon, Quackity trained Slimecicle. He was nothing more than a spy to Quackity. For the time being. But a while passed for Quackity with Slimecicle. The slime was starting to grow on him if he was being honest. He was always around him.

Quackity taught him how to gamble, how to do s lot of things. How to be human, even. How to be a friend. And while most of it, obviously, started off as Quackity simply trying to train the slime into becoming a spy— he'd subconsciously trained him how to be human by letting him stay around him. The whole being friends thing, they both learned that on the way.

Quackity had to admit, he grew fond of the man. Thousands of years old— a spy, kind and despite being clingy, very entertaining in some way. He still has a lot of concepts to explain to the slime, and he almost tired jumping off a roof once which caused Quackity to panic before Slime understood the meaning of jumping off— but that was in the past and Quackity was still teaching the man how to be human.

Slime was all-knowing. He acted naive, incredibly naive. But he knew. He had those moments where clarity hit, or he let the clarity show, where he suddenly talks intensely and it freaks someone out. He understands death, he pretends he doesn't. He can be creepy sometimes when he's serious.

He's been around long. He's seen things. He knows Karl, now Quackity, Dream— all these people. He knows the way of life and the cycle of it even if he acts naive as hell. He's not stupid.

He walks on the grounds of Las Nevadas, looking around and humming to himself.